


Ruthless

by sabinelagrande



Category: Genghis Khan - Miike Snow (Music Video)
Genre: Acceptance, F/F, Femslash February, Henchwomen, Revenge, Romance, Supervillains
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-02-02
Packaged: 2018-05-17 18:52:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5881735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabinelagrande/pseuds/sabinelagrande
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She has only one goal: revenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ruthless

The alarm goes off at 4 o'clock.

That's how long it takes- how long it _used_ to take- to change, go home, see to the children, put dinner on the table, and generally pick up her average suburban life in time to greet Quentin at the door, a smile on her face. On the first day, she finds herself rising from her chair when it goes off, and the feeling when she sits down again is like a blow to the stomach. On the second day, it's like an icepick through the heart.

On the third day, she draws her gun and fires without looking, and the alarm doesn't sound again.

There are things to be done, plans to be made. Ruth is not going to stand still while Quentin flaunts his newfound happiness. She finds herself underprepared for vengeance, a state that must not stand; she will not let him best her in this.

The first step, as is so often the first step in evil ventures of all kinds, is the acquisition of more assistance. This is made slightly difficult in Ruth's case by her insistence on only using female underlings, but she will not budge from this. The last thing she needs is some thick-headed lunk second-guessing her at some pivotal moment, solely because she is a woman in power.

She calls in reinforcements from the usual sources. The women who turn up are from the same kind of stock as her other henchwomen, tending towards broad, tall brawlers and short, wiry scrappers, but there's one who stands out. She's wholly unassuming, the conversation between the other recruits going on around her while she stands silent and, it seems, unnoticed.

It's a shame that types like that never last, because she has the prettiest face.

There are trials for the recruits, of course, because an untested henchwoman is an unknown quantity, and Ruth will not have that. Things go more or less like she expected, but then the quiet one is up. Ruth braces herself to see her get pummeled, but instead, she flips a woman six inches taller than her onto her back like it's no trouble at all.

"What is your name?" Ruth asks, as she examines her new troops.

"Betty, ma'am," she replies.

"Hmm," Ruth says, because that's the most she allows any recruit. She can't have them thinking one is her favorite; she'll sort them into her hierarchy at her own whim, and it will be after the cream rises to the top.

After she sends the recruits to her quartermaster, she steps into her auxiliary control room and locks the door behind her. It's too early to share her plans; in the weakest part of her, she also knows that it hurts too much to share yet. Quentin is just settling into bed, and _he_ is lying next to him, apparently asleep. Just before he turns off the light, Quentin leans over, kissing him on the forehead, kissing him in _her_ bed, in _her_ home, down the hall from _her_ children. 

When she left, she let him have everything, but he is _never_ going to get away with it.

\--

Preparations continue.

It doesn't take long for her to learn the recruits, to filter them into positions that need to be filled. Somehow it doesn't surprise her that Betty rises; her marksmanship is questionable, but in everything else she excels. With time, she is within Ruth's most closely-trusted circle, as much as one can trust hired muscle.

She is building a map of Quentin's life, the parts of it that she always let him conduct without her. It's ridiculous how little the other things have changed, how that man slotted right into Ruth's place, like it doesn't even matter that she's gone. She sends women to plant new bugs, to infiltrate his organization, and soon she has compiled reams of data.

Slowly she brings in others on her plan. First she lets the wiretapping teams know, then the analysts, and she lets the information bloom outwards, moving by osmosis until everyone knows. She knows from the faces of her underlings that they understand, to the level that she needs them to. She doesn't need their approval, but she knows that most of them approve. It is easy to see that she is the wronged party; this is another reason she works with henchwomen only. No one pretends that they do not understand.

Except.

She keeps catching Betty looking at her out of the corner of her eye, frustrated looks that sometimes don't leave her face until after Ruth looks directly at her. Ruth doesn't know if other people are noticing, but she doesn't know how they could miss it. She doesn't know how she feels. The idea that she would seek the approval of an underling is ridiculous, but somehow that's exactly what she wants. She wants Betty to understand, and more than that, she wants Betty with her on this. She's everything Ruth needs in a henchwoman, and if she has to get rid of her so that she can't spread dissent, that would be-

That's just not what's going to happen.

"With me," Ruth says, as she walks through her control room, crooking a finger at Betty.

"Yes, ma'am," she says dutifully, following her. Ruth leads her into the auxiliary control room, locking the door behind them before Ruth turns to face her.

"Is there a problem, Betty?" Ruth says icily. "Are you committed to this mission? Because I can easily find somewhere else to put you."

"Ma'am, if I could speak my mind?" Betty says, more annoyed than cowed.

"Go on," Ruth says, suspicious.

"You're so much better than this," Betty says, pointing. Ruth suddenly realizes what's on the screen behind her; she takes a half-step, blocking the feed from the bedroom with her body.

"'This' is what I'm doing," Ruth says. "It's not your place to question that decision. You would be wise to remember that."

"What would you even do if you got him back?" Betty says, and Ruth is thrown. "You could do so many important things if you would just let him go."

"I could have you killed for saying something like that to me," Ruth snaps.

"I know," Betty says quietly. "But maybe you needed to hear it."

"You intrigue me," Ruth says, studying her. "You really aren't afraid, are you?"

"I'm afraid of a lot of things," Betty says, with a sigh.

"But not of me," Ruth presses.

"No," Betty says, and the word is layered with meaning, stacks and stacks of it. Ruth doesn't know how so much can become clear to her within the space of two letters, but here they are anyway.

"What do you want, Betty?" Ruth asks.

"Please don't make me say it, ma'am," Betty says.

"I thought you said you weren't afraid of me," Ruth says, stepping forward and running a finger down Betty's cheek.

"I'm not," Betty says. "But I'm terrified of screwing this up."

"Then don't say anything," Ruth says, leaning forward and kissing her.

\--

All personal revelations aside, her ex-husband did leave her for his archenemy, and she doesn't feel bad about blowing up one of his outposts before she lets it go.

"What shall we do now?" Ruth asks as they lie in bed, resting her hand on Betty's stomach. "Maybe something with a ransom demand? The compound needs painting."

Betty leans over, kissing her sweetly. "I don't worry about tomorrow," she says seriously, "because my heart is full of you."

Ruth flips them, leaning down over Betty, Ruth's hand stealing up her thigh as they kiss. It's better this way, with someone she can share everything with. Quentin can keep the house and the children and the whole of suburbia.

Ruth already has what she wants.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, there is a line from "Heart Is Full" by Miike Snow, because you know how we do. Thanks to pearwaldorf for looking this over!


End file.
